Hell on Earth- the Complete Series Box Set

by Iain Rob Wright

  Smithy grabbed his shotgun from where he’d left it standing against a bedside cabinet in one of the bedrooms. Just as he got a hold on it, the sound of gunfire rang out below. “Showti—”

  David barrelled into Smithy and knocked him forward. Smithy fought to keep his balance but realised he had just narrowly avoided being decapitated by the swiping claw of a demon. The hunched monster clattered into David and threw him against the wall. Before it had a chance to tear into the smaller demon, Smithy aimed his shotgun and pulled the trigger. The blast pasted the demon’s skull on the wall. Its lifeless body slumped on the bed in the centre of the room.

  Smithy went to David, who was cowering on the ground. “You okay, buddy?”

  David nodded, but his eyes were rolling all over the place. There was a divot in his naked chest where he’d been clawed. It didn’t bleed. “Yes, am okay.”

  “Good. Stay down.” Smithy ran to the window that was now hanging open. Its rotting boards were lying on the threadbare carpet. The demons had found a weak point and sent in an assassin. But this couldn’t be the only one.

  It had started to rain, which caused a slinking shadow on the sloped roof above the kitchen to glisten in the moonlight. While it was too dark to aim, Smithy fired a blast in the shadow’s general vicinity. The pained screech that followed was enough to let him know he’d hit his target.

  There were more creatures’ shadows along the roof, all making their way for the open window. Smithy shoved in another pair of shells and fired them at once. He couldn’t tell if he had hit his targets because his temples were thudding in panic. There was no way he could fight off all these demons alone. It was too dark, and reloading took too long. “Shit! Dave, get up. Get out of this room.”

  David shuffled out into the hallway and Smithy leapt out after him, dragging the door closed. Desperately, he searched for a lock on the door, or something he could throw across the entrance, but the hallway was bare. So he did the only thing he could think to do. He placed his shotgun against the wall and grabbed the door’s brass handle, waiting for the room beyond to flood with demons. The door opened inwards, which meant he couldn’t help the situation by placing his weight against the wood. The only thing he could do was try to keep the handle up.

  He heard demons flood in through the open window, hissing and chattering like rabid monkeys. Did they know he was standing right outside the room?

  A thud struck the door and made him yelp.

  Looks like they know.

  His yelp gave his presence away, causing the thuds to multiply. The wood cracked. The hinges rattled. There was no pressure on the door handle yet, which meant he wasn’t dead yet as none of the demons had thought to try to open the door in the traditional way. They would get through eventually, but at least he had some time. “Help! Someone! The demons are getting in up here. I need help.”

  The gunfire downstairs was deafening. Smithy lacked hope anyone would hear him. Then Cam appeared at the top of the stairs. He wasn’t holding a candle, which caused him to glance around the shadowy corridor for a moment, but once he saw Smithy backed up against the door, he came rushing over.

  “The room is filling up with demons,” Smithy explained. “They got in through a window.”

  Cam nodded to David, slumped on the ground nearby. “There is one here.”

  “No, leave him. He’s… not a threat.”

  The door thudded constantly, the wooden frame beginning to rock back and forth as the nails loosened. From the force of the blows, Smithy decided there was either a giant demon in the bedroom, or half a dozen of the normal-sized ones with a hell of a hard-on for eating him. Downstairs sounded no better.

  “What’s happening with the others, Cam?”

  “It is bad. The demons are attacking on all sides.”

  Smithy flinched as the door tilted at the top. It would come away from the frame at any moment. Smithy reached out with one hand and grabbed his shotgun. “Dave, get downstairs. Tell them what’s happening.”

  David dragged himself to his feet and got moving. If not for the fact the demon started down the stairs, Smithy would have thought he hadn’t heard him.

  Another blow shifted the door out further. The thick wood clonked against the side of Smithy’s head. His hand slipped from the handle and he raised his shotgun, firing off a blast into the widening gap between frame and door. Cam poked his shotgun into the gap on the other side and fired. Then both of them grabbed the door and shoved it back into place, trying to push it back into the frame. The pair of shotgun blasts had bought them a little breathing room, but the onslaught resumed almost immediately. The door was now completely unattached by the hinges, held in place only by their heaving shoulders.

  But the weight was too much.

  “We cannot hold this for long,” said Cam.

  “No shit. I’m sorry I called you up here.”

  “It is okay, but it is time for you to leave now, friend. Go warn the others. Fall back wherever you can.”

  Smithy studied the man who was only one level above being a stranger and wondered if he’d heard correctly. “If I step away from this door, the demons will flood out and kill you.”

  “I understand this. I will hold them off as long as I can.”

  Smithy winced as the wood clonked against his head again. He heaved the door back into the frame, losing his breath as he used up the last of his strength. “Y-You’ll die.”

  “Yes. Now go.”

  “Why?”

  Cam smiled, but it was full of sadness. “Because I followed a man once who taught me that Allah respects sacrifice above all else. That man lost his way, but I shall not. Go, my friend, and live.”

  The door thudded against Smithy’s head again and this time dislodged him from the door. The gap between the frame widened. Smithy hurried to get his shoulder back up against the door, but Cam moved in his way and blocked him. “Go! Now!”

  Smithy clutched his shotgun and backed away. “Shit. Thank you. Thank you, mate.”

  The door flew open and Cam leapt back.

  Smithy turned and ran for the stairs, listening to the sound of gunfire behind him and praying it would last forever. Once it stopped, it meant Cam was dead.

  It stopped by the time he was halfway down the stairs.

  The demons were inside the house.

  10

  Mass rushed into the kitchen as soon as Tox called for help. Shadows moved past the windows. The demons were launching their attack.

  “Shit’s about to go down,” said Tox, checking his shotgun like a surgeon checking his scalpel.

  The back door was blocked by the cabinet Smithy had pushed into place, but the kitchen had more windows than the other rooms, and while they were all boarded up, it could be the weak point in their defences.

  “Addy has the front,” said Mass. “I’m with you, mate. Ready?”

  Tox cocked his shotgun. “Urban Vampires for life.”

  Mass nodded. “For life.”

  The first attack came – a thud at one of the windows that shook the wooden board nailed in place. A small cloud of brick dust erupted from the wall. Mass ran and hopped up on the worktop, his weakness taking a break as adrenaline flooded his system. If this was supposed to be his death, he intended to send it packing. As with all the other windows, there was a gap at the top to shoot or stab through. Mass fired his shotgun into the shadow-filled night.

  The other window boards shook as the demons attacked several places at once. Tox got to work firing out of the two windows near to him, rushing back and forth. Pictures and utensils rattled on the walls. Candles flickered. Rain began to beat at the roof tiles. Demonic howls surrounded the house.

  Addy started shouting from the lounge. Gunfire exploded upstairs. There was no way to be everywhere at once, so Mass would just have to hope the others could handle their own personal battles.

  One of the windows burst open, its wooden board detaching from the crumbling brickwork and clattering into the kitchen
’s large metal sink. The glass panes shattered, and a demon was suddenly inside.

  Mass was still standing on the worktop, and he leapt off to get a better angle on the monster. It glared at him in the flickering candlelight and let loose a roar. Mass replied with a roar of his own and the shotgun blast tore clean through its leg, sending it tumbling to the tiles. He finished the demon off with a vicious stamp to its misshapen skull.

  Another window burst open, letting in the rain, the howling winds, and the demons.

  Tox leapt down from the worktop too. “We need to get out of this bloody kitchen. We can’t hold it.”

  Mass nodded. “We need to find somewhere we can dig in and keep from being surrounded.”

  The two of them moved back towards the door, letting off shots as demons flooded the kitchen. Candles flickered in the flurry of activity, elongating the ghastly shadows and sending them up the walls.

  In the dining room, Mass slammed the old wooden door shut and shoved a chair beneath the handle. He had no idea if the trick worked, but it was the only thing he had time to do. The demons were already banging against the wood by the time he and Tox made it into the front hallway. Addy and Harriet were there, trying to hold a board in place over a window. No sign of Cam or Smithy. Mass suddenly realised how massively outnumbered they were.

  We’re not getting out of this alive.

  “We’re totally screwed!” Harriet sobbed, echoing the thoughts inside his head. “There’re too many.”

  Footsteps sounded on the staircase. Mass turned to see the demon, David, hurtling down the steps. There was blood leaking from its one eye and its movements were jerky. “Inside upstairs,” it yelled shrilly. “Inside upstairs. Smithy need help.”

  Mass stood at the bottom of the stairs and aimed up towards the landing. He could hear the commotion, the sound of demons inside the house. He could hear Smithy shouting for help. There was no time to do anything. Tox tried to help Addy and Harriet keep the window board in place, but another window was also under attack, its board loosening with every blow. The sound of splintering wood came from the dining room too.

  “We need to get the hell out of here!” said Tox. “We’ve lost.”

  “Where the fuck is there to go?” Addy shouted, grunting as the board shifted out of her grasp. Her hand was bleeding.

  “We’re screwed,” said Harriet, holding a shotgun but doing nothing with it.

  Mass searched around, not knowing where an attack would come from next. His eyes spotted something that should have been obvious – the basement door. “Get downstairs,” he yelled. “Get into the basement.”

  Tox turned from the window with a frown, but then the frown shifted into a look of shocked relief. “Damn it, yes! Come on. Move it.”

  Harriet moved first, sprinting for safety. Addy and Tox leapt back from the window and let the board fall away to reveal a dozen demonic eyes glaring in at them from the rain-streaked darkness outside. They raced to the basement door and clattered down the wooden steps. Mass went to join them, but David grabbed his leg. The demon slumped like it could barely hold itself up, but its eyes were clear and lucid. “Smithy!”

  Mass looked up the stairs. Smithy was no longer calling out for help. “I’m sorry, mate, but he’s a goner. We need to get inside the basement.”

  “He is alive. I go.” The weak little demon began to slither up the stairs on its hands and knees. Suicide. There was no way to help Smithy. The demons were invading the house.

  “For Christ’s sake.” Mass started up the stairs. He owed Smithy. The lad had got him out of that pit and helped save Addy. “Smithy! You alive?”

  To Mass’s relief, Smithy appeared at the top of the stairs and began legging it downwards. “They’re coming,” he screamed. “Shit, they’re coming.”

  On the upstairs landing, demons raced towards the stairs. Mass leapt back down into the hallway and aimed his shotgun, but before he pulled the trigger, he sensed a more imminent threat to his right. He turned and let off a shot at a demon racing at him from the dining room. “We have to move!”

  Smithy’s face was an oil painting of terror. “Where?”

  “The basement. Move!”

  Mass took another shot and hit a primate leaping down the stairs. Its body tumbled like a boulder and almost took out Smithy, who made it into the hallway just in time. Like a parent, he grabbed David and pulled him close. “Come on, little buddy, you’re with us.”

  Mass knew he was out of ammo, so he turned the heavy 12-gauge sideways and used it as a club. He swung for a demon climbing in through the window and dented its skull. Smithy emptied his last shell into a demon in the dining room and then did the same, swinging his long-barrelled shotgun like a baseball bat. The two men moved towards the basement door, unable to turn their backs and run.

  Demons came from everywhere, spilling into the hallway from every window. A burnt man leapt off the stairs and collided with Smithy, grabbing him by the arm and tearing his flesh with its bony claws. Taken by surprise, Smithy dropped his shotgun and yelled. Mass skipped across the tiles and swung his shotgun at the burnt man, knocking its head clean off. It was as if its flesh was made of slow-cooked pork.

  Smithy was bleeding, but he was able to continue towards the basement door. Mass put a hand on his back and pushed him faster. Then they were at the top of the stairs, inches from safety.

  Smithy started downward, David right behind him. Mass turned and grabbed the door handle and saw a dozen demons rushing towards him. He slammed the door closed and the demons struck the other side, rattling the door in its frame. The wood was thick, the handle made of heavy iron.

  A demon screeched in pain.

  Then another one.

  The thudding against the door stopped. Mass frowned.

  The iron!

  Iron was some kind of kryptonite to demons. They couldn’t touch the door handle. Their only option would be to smash in the thick wood panels. Mass joined the others in the basement. “We have a little time. Enough to try to think our way out of this.”

  “There’s a hatch,” said Harriet. “Whenever Naseem and the others brought back supplies, they would head in and out through a hatch at the back of the house.”

  “It’s over here,” said Addy, pointing up at a trapdoor overhead. There was a stubby wooden ladder attached via hooks.

  “We have a way out,” said Mass, breathing a sigh of relief between heaving gasps for air. “We’re not done yet.”

  Smithy started rooting around, moving aside boxes and examining various antique firearms. “We need to rearm. I doubt we’ll get an easy— Yah! Jesus!”

  As Smithy had shoved aside a stack of food crates, he uncovered someone hiding. Gemma cowered, holding up a shaking hand in defence. “P-Please!”

  Addy’s face turned to stone. She threw down her shotgun and pulled out the knife she always carried. “This bitch is mine.”

  Gemma moved behind Smithy as if he would protect her. Of course, he wasn’t about to do that, and instead he shoved her into the centre of the room. “Don’t know you, sweetheart.”

  “Sorry, love,” said Mass, “but I think Addy’s earned a little payback. Don’t worry, I won’t let her get too carried away.”

  Addy stalked towards the woman with her knife. “Gross was worth ten of you,” she snarled. “I’m going to make this hurt.”

  Gemma shook her head, looking for help but finding none. “No,” she begged. “No, please. I… I can get us out of here. There’s a way!”

  “We already know about the hatch.”

  “I don’t just mean out of this basement. I mean I can get us off this farm. I can get us out of here in one piece.”

  Mass moved to Addy and placed a hand on her arm. “One sec, Addy. We’re going to hear what this bitch has to say.”

  Maddy was dead on her feet. Time was an imprecise thing nowadays, but her body told her it was closer to dawn than dusk. The fact she was fully armed and about to travel beyond the barricades for the f
irst time in months was surreal. That she was doing so to help rescue a bunch of soldiers who had arrived, uninvited, only yesterday was even more bizarre.

  The gunfire in the city had continued for about ten minutes before the first maydays started coming through the radios. The calls were unfiltered and went to both Thomas’s and Wickstaff’s men, which meant everyone knew what was happening. The soldiers outside the barricades were being slaughtered, surrounded by the enemy on all sides. They needed rescuing. Thomas’s face had turned pale at the news, but Wickstaff went to work with grim determination. “I still think you should stay behind and man the fort,” she told Maddy. “There are more than enough of us heading out on this fool’s errand.”

  “No way,” said Maddy. She was a survivor but not necessarily a fighter, yet she couldn’t sit this one out. It felt like vindication. The men and women of Portsmouth were banding together to save Thomas’s men because that was what they did. They rescued people. She couldn’t sit by while others risked their lives. “I’m going, ma’am, unless you object.”

  Wickstaff cocked the lever on her SA80. “I would never tell a woman not to fight. Having you next to me will be a comfort, but don’t you dare die on me. I forbid it.”

  “And I forbid you doing the same. You’re our leader and we can’t lose you. Why are you going out with us at all?”

  “So that everyone can see I’m willing to get my hands dirty, hierarchy be damned. We all need to fight together when the time comes. Now, let’s get on with this grim task, shall we? The sound of screaming is not something I enjoy.”

  Maddy agreed. The constant screams and shouts coming from the ruins were disturbing, and the only positive was that it meant men were still alive out there.

  Wickstaff moved to the front of her cohort, a hundred men and women of varying ages, creeds, and colours. “Okay, you lot. We all know what we have to do. There are a bunch of idiots out there who need our help. They might be brave, professional men, but when the shit hits the fan, it’s always us who has to clean up the mess. We’ve been cleaning up other people’s mess for the best part of a year, and while the rest of the country went and died, we held out. We faced the monsters and told them to get back under our beds, to go back to hiding inside our closets, to banish themselves only to our nightmares. We refused to accept their new reality. We refused to be afraid. Tonight we will remind them of that.”